This is the place to post all your General Roswell fanfiction. Any Canon fics, which pick up directly from any episode of the show and that focus on Max/Liz, Michael/Maria, Isabel/Alex or Isabel/Jesse, Kyle/Tess, or all the couples together! Rule of Thumb: If Max healed Liz in the Crashdown in September 1999, then your fic belongs here. If it picks up from the show in any way, it belongs here.

keepsmiling7: "I love a jealous Isabel".....We do as well, lol. Her mom seems to know just how to get her daughter to see it.

Thank you, Kyle amazes us with his humor even when he's weighed down dealing with Michael's questions about something he'd rather deal with alone.

But he is dealing with a ghost......So what's in store for these two??? Hmmmm, we'll have to see...It's New Years Eve...

Eva: You so get Kyle. He's in a tough place. "It shows his desperation and love at the same time." I can only hope that that last one will win. Preferably within 90 minutes." Lol, right? Looks like our characters aren't the only ones watching the clock.

sarammlover: We're glad to see Kyle talking about it as well. Michael can be so challenging even when he means well, but then he comes up with the good stuff out of nowhere. We love Michael.

Part 6

“Did something… happen between you and Kyle?”

“Mom,” Isabel protested as she moved back under the guise of reaching for a tissue to dry her eyes. The hesitation between the words, the emphasis on ‘happen’, it was clear what her mom was asking.

Diane nodded when her daughter confirmed her suspicions without really answering. “So why are you here?”

“Because it shouldn’t have happened.” What was the point in talking around it or denying it?

“Did he pressure you?”

“What?” Her startled gaze shot to her mom. “No, Kyle would never do that. I mean, I’m sure he could be very persuasive if he wanted to, but…” Ungh, she was not having this conversation with her mom.

“There’s a very fine line between persuasion and pressure and considering how long the two of you have been dancing around this… Do not roll your eyes at me.”

Isabel rubbed her forehead tiredly. She didn’t even have to be looking at Mom for her to know she was rolling her eyes and she’d never figured out how she could tell. “Mom, Kyle didn’t pressure or persuade.” There hadn’t been time or a need for that. “We were just having this argument that was so stupid and… and I’m not even sure what happened. We were arguing and then we weren’t.”

They had gone from combative to primal in the blink of an eye.

“What were you arguing about?”

“The empty-headed girl he brought home the night before,” she bit out before she could stop the words.

Diane nodded. “Aren’t you the one who was encouraging him to date?”

“Date, yes, not bring them home where I could walk in on her parading around his room. In one of his shirts.”

“Um-hmm,” she murmured as she shifted to rest her arm on the back of the couch. “So it bothered you that he slept with this girl?”

“He didn’t sleep with her.”

“She was in his room wearing his shirt after an overnight stay and he didn’t sleep with her?”

“No, he slept on the couch.” She sighed tiredly. “He made sure he went over that several times before he left. He was very emphatic on that point. Apparently she had too much to drink and managed to lose her keys so he brought her home so she could sleep it off.”

“You don’t believe him?”

“No, I do. That’s the kinda guy he is.” She leaned forward and picked at a loose thread on her sweatpants. “And he doesn’t really do the whole casual hook-up thing anyway.”

“But even knowing that you assumed he had slept with that girl.”

Of course she’d thought that.

She walked down the hall and tapped on the door to his room before opening it, the Christmas song she was humming stopping abruptly when she saw Holly Barrister moving around his room as if she had any right to be there. Her eyes traveled over the petite redhead dismissively but it was apparently lost on her because she just gave her a wave and a stupid grin before picking up a pair of socks.

Her blood boiled in her veins when Kyle stepped out of the bathroom in a towel and nothing else. He didn’t even have the good grace to look like he was embarrassed when he looked at her.

“What’s up?” He was nonchalant as he tossed the towel he’d been using to dry his hair over his desk chair and she inwardly cringed. He was completely un-trainable when it came to certain things.

She forced her voice to stay level. “I just wanted to let you know breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”

“Okay, well – “

“Oh, I’d love something to eat!”

Her back teeth started to grind at the dense girl’s enthusiastic shriek. Then she announced how grateful she was for the good time he’d shown her and she ran over and threw herself at Kyle. It took a serious amount of control to keep from flicking her across the room like the pest she was.

But, instead of hitting the pest with a blast of alien Raid she rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, stalking out of the room and grabbing her things so she could get out of the house before she had to endure anymore of the nauseating display.

“You were jealous,” Diane said.

“What? No, Mom, it's not…” she trailed off and sighed as she got to her feet, needing to move. “Yes,” she admitted.

“So the two of you fought after she left?”

“No, I left before she did.” Just ran like a scared rabbit and spent the rest of the day avoiding him and the situation. “He was waiting for me when I got home.”

Diane nodded and controlled the urge to smile. “Well, I'd imagine if you were avoiding him all day he was not in a good mood.”

She made a face. “That has to be the understatement of the year.” He had been furious and he hadn't tried to keep his temper in check.

She wasn’t expecting to see him when she got home but she covered her expression just before he turned around to look at her. “What, no mindless entertainment tonight?”

He nearly snapped the knob off the stove when he turned the burner off and jerked the pot off to throw it in the sink. She didn’t get the chance to comment on his behavior or the mess he had made because he whirled around to pin her with a look on his face that she had never seen before.

“You got somethin’ you wanna say let’s hear it,” he snapped. “For the past year you’ve paraded more guys through here than I’ve been able to keep count of and the one time I bring someone home you’re all over me about it. You’re the one that said I needed to get out and date more or have you forgotten that?!”

What right did he have to be pissed about this situation? “I said date them, not bring them home for an overnight stay.”

“Why the hell does it matter to you?”

Her gaze dropped to his hands when they wrapped around the counter separating them. “I just think you can do better.”

“Uh-huh, and what the hell’s wrong with Holly?”

“Her name’s stupid to start with.” Even as the words came out of her mouth she knew she had just pushed the argument into ridiculous territory.

He stared at her in disbelief. “That’s your argument? Her name’s stupid?” He threw his hands up in the air. “This from the girl who set me up with a girl named Bitsy?” He rounded the counter and stood toe to toe with her as he got in her space to make his point. “You have no right to say anything about who I choose to bring home.”

No right? He had to be kidding. “I don’t bring any of my dates home and I sure as hell haven’t let any of them run around the house half naked.”

“And you haven't seen Alex since that night.”

She shook her head, shaking the memory off and keeping her eyes locked on the photos lining the mantle above the fireplace. Pictures that chronicled her and Max’s lives from the time Mom and Dad had brought them home.

“You didn't go through this when you married Jesse.” She watched her daughter as the words sank in. “Why do you think that is?”

Her breath caught in her throat. Jesse hadn't threatened the dream, she realized. In so many ways Jesse had been safe. She had been able to control things with him. Or at least she’d been able to do that until he’d learned the truth. Once he’d discovered she wasn’t the person he thought she was things had changed.

keepsmiling7: Diane and Isabel have a very special relationship, one that's grown even stronger since the truth became known. That's evidenced by the openness shared between them as she helps her daughter navigate this emotional minefield in an effort to guide her to embracing and accepting the truth.

Eva: Diane has shown the depth of her love for her children in many ways and she's not afraid of speaking her mind when one or both of them is in need of her guidance. Knowing the truth, freeing their relationships of the barriers that existed in the past allows her to provide that guidance without restriction. We also admire Max and Isabel's mother.

sarammlover: Thank you! We admire Diane's mother abilities with her children and especially in this instance with Isabel.

A/N : Due to the short length we'll be updating again on Monday.

Part 7

Kyle wasn’t the type to fumble. He wasn’t the type to drop the ball. He was the guy whose focus was solely on the goal, whatever it happened to be. And that night his instincts, learned on the battlefield of Friday night football, and honed by experience since being drafted into the insanity of being part of the alien nation, had taken over and they hadn’t let him down. He wasn’t the most experienced guy around, but he wasn’t a rookie either.

He’d moved on instinct, base and primal, but at the core of the need driving him, there had been other emotions that tempered his actions. He’d seen her move and in the space of one pounding heartbeat he’d countered that move and jerked her into his arms. The argument had ceased to exist at that point, replaced by something so powerful, so honest and blinding in its intensity that he’d given himself over to it without taking a step back and questioning it.

Blunt fingertips drumming out a staccato rhythm against the scarred surface of the bar drew his attention and he shot a look at his unwanted companion. Michael was momentarily absorbed in the action on the screen, completely unaware of his existence while he waited, breath held, body taut, for the player with the puck to score. Blissfully free of the piercing gaze and rapid-fire questions about a situation he didn’t care to discuss with his friend, he let his thoughts drift back to that night.

Her breath had caught, a moment of surprise, shock perhaps, but when there was no hint of protest he took her mouth in a bruising kiss that shook him to the deepest part of his soul. She responded in kind and they dueled for control but he wouldn’t give in, not in this. It seemed like forever, yet at the same time merely a brief moment, before she willingly abandoned the struggle and relented, relinquishing control to him.

He had taken the lead, his feet sure as they maneuvered them down the hall to his room. In spite of his need to be the one leading in this situation, every move, every kiss, every touch, it was all underlined by the love he felt for her. He had taken her to bed, to his bed, and for the first time in his life he’d made love to a woman.

Sure, he’d had sex before. Perhaps not recently, but in spite of Michael’s good-natured taunts and jabs about his Buddhist path he hadn’t joined the monkhood. Before Isabel he would’ve laughed at any guy who used the phrase ‘make love’, certain it was just something guys said to get the girl they wanted between the sheets. But there was a difference and now he knew what it was. And a small, traitorous part of him wished he didn’t know because it was a hell of a lot easier to walk away from a night or three of casual sex than it was to walk away from a woman you’d shared intimacy on the deepest levels with.

The wind blew and he lifted his face to feel it, welcoming the warm breeze and even the fine grains of sand that brushed against his skin. His eyes opened and he scanned the night sky, taking in the star strewn canvas. It was breathtaking and so familiar it nearly hurt to see and feel it. The wind stilled and he inhaled the warm air deeply, drawing in the familiar scents of the New Mexico desert.

He felt a familiar presence and he dropped his gaze, turning his head to look at the woman standing beside him. Her eyes were searching the arid landscape, her spirit so peaceful, and her expression contemplative. As she turned to look at him they both froze, staring at each other for the space of a heartbeat. The last time he’d experienced it, it had been a dream. This time it wasn’t a dream, it was something that was so much a part of him, so much a part of her, and it connected them in such an elemental way.

But there was something else; something that had given him hope – truly the greatest and cruelest gift that can ever be bestowed upon the human heart. When their eyes had met he hadn’t seen the shadows of her past hidden in the dark depths and his foolish heart had soared because he had known, he had believed, that finally she was his in a way that went well beyond the physical.

But it had only been in his mind; a trick played by the desires of the heart. The cold light of day had come without fail and with it came doubts and recriminations, pain and regret. He should’ve known better. He should’ve guarded his heart from the inevitable crushing blow, but he’d foolishly allowed himself to be swept away while riding high on a wave of euphoria. He snorted at the ridiculous sentiment. Riding high on a wave of euphoria? More like the relief felt when the first drops of rain fell on drought-ridden land; the drought being his lack of a sex life for longer than he cared to admit.

He sighed even as he shoved that thought aside. As much as he wanted to make the pain go away he couldn’t cheapen what they’d shared, not even in his own head. Besides, he knew it’d only make him feel better for a second or two because he knew the truth, and Isabel Evans was so much more than a quick roll in the sheets.

“Cat still got your tongue?”

His eyes lifted from the pile of shredded napkin bits, clearing his throat and cupping his hand so he could sweep them into his waiting palm. He started to throw them on the floor and then shoved them in his pocket instead. He glared at Michael when he caught the speculative look the other man was shooting in his direction.

“What?”

Michael just shrugged and shot a pointed glance at the sprinkling of napkin bits littering the floor.

So much for getting them all in his pocket. “Don’t you need to go?”

His companion made a point of looking at the clock before giving that infuriating shrug again. “Still got an hour to pry your head outta your ass.”

“Well, last time I checked you didn’t have a license to practice as a proctologist, so…” He lifted his beer and took a slow drink, wishing he felt good enough to enjoy winding Michael up. “Just go be with Maria and tell her Dr. Love failed.”

“You know where Isabel is, so why don’t you just get your ass over there and have it out with her?” Hell, a good fight with Maria usually cleared the air and the makeup sex was phenomenal.

“Um-hmm, and that’s gonna solve all our problems, huh?”

“Hey, you don’t screw with a proven method.”

“Well, the Deluca-Guerin method of knock-down drag-out fighting followed by what I’m sure is a nauseating display of making up isn’t on the menu.”

“Maybe it should be.”

“And maybe you should just take your ass over to the pub and let me work this out on my own.”

“Yeah, you’re doin’ a bang-up job so far.” Michael shifted to rest his arm on the bar so he could look at his buddy directly. “You’re not gonna solve anything with you sittin’ here and her over at her parents’ place. You wanna win the war you’ve gotta start by waging a few battles. And sometimes you have to take the first step, a preemptive strike if you will, and engage the other side in enemy territory.”

Kyle rolled his eyes before pushing his beer back and leaning forward to lightly bang his forehead on the bar. How the hell did Michael and Maria ever get anywhere when it came to actual conversation? “Is this how you talk to your girlfriend?”

“What? No, see, Maria an’ me, we don’t need to have asinine conversations like this ‘cause she’s learned to listen when I talk.” He frowned at what sounded suspiciously like a derisive comment followed by a snort. “Obviously you’re into the girl, so get over there and fight it out.”

“A good soldier knows when to advance and when to retreat, Michael.” He signaled the bartender for another Jack and Coke. He shook his head and sighed tiredly. “Yeah, I could go over there and we probably would fight, but it’s not a battle I’m gonna win. Not like this.” He didn’t want her to come to him with a ghost hanging over them. If she couldn’t come to him of her own free will, ready to stand beside him and reach for the future with him, if she couldn’t trust him with her heart, then the battle was already lost.

sarammlover: Kyle does sound defeated. He's not, but he does sound that way.

Part 8

Kyle had been her touchstone for so long. He was strong, steady and reliable. She trusted him with everything. Her relationship with him was unlike anything she had ever had with anyone else. They had a strong foundation built on friendship. She hadn’t been Jesse’s friend. She certainly hadn’t made an effort to be Grant’s friend. And Alex… she swallowed with difficulty. Next to being unable to save him, her biggest regret was that she hadn’t accepted him sooner. Her gut instinct had told her he could be trusted. Why hadn’t she just listened to her own instincts? She’d wasted so much time and time was the one thing that could never be taken back.

Alex could’ve, would’ve, been her friend and so much more in time if she’d just listened to herself and taken that step, opened up to him. But no, because of her fears and insecurities, their opportunities had been limited to Prom. Everything that might have come after that had been taken from them in a cruel twist of fate.

She nodded absently when she heard the oven timer go off and a moment later her mom excused herself to check on the cookies. The little voice in her head scoffed condescendingly. No, you haven’t trusted him with everything, her conscience insisted. Be honest with yourself! The one thing he needs you to trust him with is the one thing you’ve withheld from him. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to silence the voice. She sighed in relief when the recriminations stopped but less than a heartbeat later the floodgates opened and the memories of that night washed over her.

Heat spread through her body like a wildfire consuming dry prairie grass as their connection rose to the forefront of her mind. The memories were merciless, refusing to be subdued any longer. She sank back into the cushions as they overtook her, demanding acknowledgment. Her fingers tugged at the tufted edges of the throw pillow she’d taken possession of at some point but she was completely unaware of the motion.

He took her in his arms when she reached for him, the move so fluid, so at odds with the heat raging between them. The argument faded away as it was replaced by something she didn’t stop to question, forcing it back, because even in that moment she didn’t want to acknowledge it. In spite of the struggle to maintain plausible deniability, she’d felt the connection they shared open wide as deep friendship, love and intense need suddenly flared into a single blinding supernova. She gave in to it, to him, to herself, and she couldn’t honestly recall who took the lead or even how they ended up tangled in Kyle’s bed sheets.

The sound of her mom moving around the kitchen as she took a batch of cookies out of the oven didn’t even register as her skin flushed hotly. The sensory memory of his skin against hers, of the drive that had taken them over, combined with the easy recall of the openness in his piercing blue eyes as they locked on hers and the soft urgent sound of her name on his lips just before she went over the edge caused her to feel as if she was overheated and she almost got up and stepped out onto the porch to cool off

She released a slow shaky breath, her body feeling weightless as she experienced a moment so achingly familiar, so poignant… and so not hers alone. The wind blew and she lifted her face to feel it, welcoming the warm breeze and even the fine grains of sand that brushed against her skin. Her eyes opened and she scanned the night sky, taking in the star strewn canvas. It was breathtaking and so familiar it nearly broke her heart. The wind stilled and she inhaled the warm air deeply, drawing in the familiar scents of the New Mexico desert.

She felt a familiar presence and she dropped her gaze, turning her head to look at the man standing beside her. His eyes were searching the arid landscape, his spirit so peaceful, and his expression contemplative. As he turned to look at her they both froze, staring at each other for the space of a heartbeat. She didn’t wake from the dream this time because it wasn’t a dream. It was something else, something deeper, something so elemental that connected her and Kyle. Tears welled in her eyes as her heart not only noticed, but understood the significance of Kyle’s presence and the absence of Alex’s.

“As you can see, the party’s going strong as we close in on the final hour before…”

She shook her head and frowned. That voice and the dialog didn’t belong in her memories, she thought as her annoyed gaze sought out the source of the distraction. She leaned forward and snatched the remote up, silencing the television and the irritating emcee. She threw the remote back on the coffee table and her eyes were drawn to the envelope her mom had left lying there.

Her mind went back over everything Mom had shared about her first love. She reached for the envelope, paying no attention to the remote when it slid to the opposite edge of the table, teetering there for several moments before finally tipping over to fall to the floor where it went ignored. She leaned back and pinched the edges open to carefully slide the photograph out. She studied it for a few minutes, thinking over everything her mom had shared; feelings, wisdom and advice.

“Mom.”

It was barely a whisper but Diane heard it, had been waiting for it. She paused in the doorway to observe her daughter for a moment, smiling when the younger woman stood to look at her. She could see the slight trembling in the hand that held Travis’ photo; could hear the quiet sniffling and see the watery eyes, and without a moment of hesitation she moved to take the picture and pull her girl into her arms. “Isabel.”

The picture dropped to land on the envelope, freeing her hands to soothe the tremors racing through Isabel’s body as she murmured words of comfort. Fingers clenched in her shirt as her daughter fought to regain control, to maintain her hold on composure that was rapidly slipping from her tenuous grasp.

“Just let it go, honey,” she urged. She held her through the storm, knowing the cathartic release was necessary. When she finally began to calm Diane heard her throat work as she swallowed hard followed by a water-logged hiccup and her tear-roughened voice cracked when she spoke.

“Oh, Mom, Alex is gone.” Another hiccup before she choked out more. “He’s really gone.” Her arms tightened and she hugged her mom closer. “And Kyle… I just let him leave.”

Diane leaned back slightly to look into her daughter’s ravaged features. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Isabel dried her eyes as best she could and nodded as she finally managed to settle herself down. “I need a ride, Mom.” She raised her head to look into the framed mirror that hung on the wall above the loveseat, taking in her appearance. No, that wouldn’t do at all. “And we’ll need to make a quick stop at my apartment.” Feeling that she finally had herself under control she moved from her mother’s embrace and met her gaze steadily. “I need to go talk to him.”

They had always been able to do that. Even in the most difficult times she’d felt completely at ease talking to Kyle. She had to believe that would still hold true, that what they had wasn’t lost.